Excerpts from the video diary of Dr John H Watson
by I'llbeyourPatronus
Summary: There are things John needs to get off of his chest, things he can't tell his therapist. She suggests he start a video diary, but what happens when the British government forwards the video files to a consulting detective presumed dead? Drabble format J/S
1. Silly

Title: Excerpts from the video diary of Dr. John H. Watson  
>Summary: There are things John needs to get off of his chest, things he can't tell his therapist. She suggests he start a video diary, but what happens when the British government forwards the video files to a consulting detective presumed dead?<br>Rating: K+ for now  
>Disclaimer: Sadly, I own no part of the BBC's <em>Sherlock<em>, nor Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's eternal characters Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. I just like to play with them.

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><p>"Alright. Uhm. I'm not really- I'm not really sure what to say. I've no idea what we're supposed to accomplish here, me talking to myself like a bloody madman. It doesn't make sense..." A sandy blond head looks down and shakes. "Doctor's orders I suppose." The man cringes. "I feel so silly. What am I supposed to say?" He sighs. "This is pointless." A hand reaches up and a keyboard gets closer until it turns to black as the laptop is shut.<p>

Sherlock is amazed by what sits on his lap. By what he just saw. Knowing there are more. _Why though? Why are there more if he found it so pointless?_ he brushes the thought away, he's too thankful to care at the moment. He'll have to be a bit kinder to Mycroft, even if the thought makes him shudder. His brother just handed him the way to see John again, to hear his voice. His brother just handed him the world.

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><p><strong>AN:** Hello loves! This is my first shot at a chapter fic, and if you can't already tell it will be in drabble format. I have another fic in the works but I really, _really_, do not need to screw that up. It may be the most important thing I've ever written.

As always, thank you for reading and please review! I'm still fairly new at this, so any and all encouragement or tips would be _greatly_ appreciated.


	2. Monday

"Okay fine. Let's try this again. It's uhm, Monday, 'bout 8:30 at night. Not that it matters, but there you go. I'm still not really sure what this is, but everyone is convinced I have something I need to get off my chest." John looks down. "Not that that would change things now would it? He'd still-" his voice breaks off, and Sherlock is startled to find tears in his eyes. "I can't- I can't do this. Not right now." The laptop is shut again.

Sherlock leans back in his seat, and purses his lips, stunned. He's never seen John so shaken, never wanted so badly to reach out to the other man. To comfort him and hold him close. Make everything better. It's an embarrassingly human desire he knows may never be fulfilled.


	3. Quiet

"I'm going to give this another shot for no reason other than that it's too damn quiet." The army man pouts. "I'm not ready for- uh- that which I am actually supposed to say, so bear with me, uhm, myself... Today was alright. Went to the store, my favourite tea was on sale. That's always nice. Took a bit of a walk. Met Molly for a cuppa again. She's still trying to cheer me up. Bit persistent, but it's really rather sweet. She's a good one. Mrs Hudson dropped by with some biscuits to try and...bribe me into coming back. But I- I can't. Not yet at least. I don't think I'll ever-" John sighs and lifts his hand to his face, covering his eyes before he raises it to run it through his hair. "Then I watched a bit of crap telly, and here we are. So overall, good. Good day" The doctor pauses, then frowns. "No. Not good. Crap. It was boring as hell. Entirely dull." The screen goes blank and Sherlock smiles to himself.

"I thought you would have liked something a little dull John."


	4. Bite

"I think I'm going to be sacked." The army doctor states it plainly, not a hint of self-pity. "Not that I don't deserve it, mind. Bit of a rubbish employee aren't I? I show up late, fall asleep, rush off in the middle of my shift…" John snorts and absentmindedly scratches a small bite on his forearm. "Lousy really… God, I'm awful. I don't even know why they've kept me on so long. Granted, I hadn't needed the hours so they were few and far between, but still. How do they put up with it? Sarah mustn't be as upset as I thought. Either that or someone else is pulling some strings. Someone with incredible influence…" A hysterical laugh bubbles past his lips. "Oh _god._ I do not need to think about that right now."

Sherlock smirks, one more to add to the list of things he will never thank Mycroft for; allowing John to keep his job, and by extension, their flat.

"Truth is, I'm not too broken up about it. I had been planning to quit y'know, before- before everything. But now? Now it just seems pointless. All of it. I honestly wouldn't give a care either way."

The smile slides off of the detective's face.

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><p><strong>AN:** As these are so small I hope to upload them in clumps, and I'll try to refrain from bugging you with too many notes. However, this is the chapter where I started my first ever word prompt! I thought it worth mentioning. ^.^

Prompt was "Bite"


	5. Flat

"I moved back into the flat." John pauses, almost as if for dramatic effect, letting his words sink in. "I dunno why really, but I couldn't not. I just couldn't stand the look on Mrs. Hudson's face anymore." He bites his bottom lip, chewing on it in thought before releasing it to speak. "Well that's just not true, now is it? I moved back because everything here is _him._" John looks pained, as if he cannot continue. It must have proved to be to much because the screen turns black on the shortest video yet.

Sherlock can't help the smile that creeps onto his face. John is back at Baker Street.

John is home.

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><p>Prompt was "flat"<p> 


	6. Numb

"…I'm numb. I don't feel anything. Just this dull ache that encompasses my life. Everyone says I'm in shock. I can see the pity in their eyes, but truthfully? I'm more worried that if I really am, in shock I mean, what might happen when I come out of it." John tries to laugh, but it comes out hysterical, sounding more like a shriek. Sherlock cringes, and John coughs to cover it up. "Never mind that. Harry called today. Said she was sorry it took her so long to pick up the phone. She gave her condolences then hung up. She was never much good with things of that sort, y'know, comforting people. Guess it's as much as I could hope for. It's not like I'd want her _here_."

John rolls his eyes and the corner of his lip twitches half-heartedly before he moves to stop the video. Sherlock pauses it right before it ends, video John staring him right in the face. Mrs Hudson's voice, _'Poor thing, he's lost. Doesn't know up from down anymore. Still in shock.'_ all of the things he wants to yell at Harriet Watson, and the broken look in John's eyes clouding his mind.

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><p>Prompt was "numb"<p> 


	7. Boxes

"Mrs Hudson has been hovering around me ever since I came home, treating me like you would- well, like you would treat a man you expected to have a breakdown at any moment." John furrows his brows and draws his bottom lip in, clutching it hard between his teeth before he continues. "Right. Mrs Hudson. She, uhm, dropped off some boxes for me. When I- when I left I didn't touch anything. She didn't either, said she didn't have the heart to…" John shuts his eyes tight. "I don't either. I don't know how she expects me to… I mean, it hurts, yeah, of _course_ it hurts. Seeing all of it. Everything, _everything_ here is him. But I can't do it. I can't pack up all of his things and pretend like he was never here. Even with- Even without his things this flat would still feel like him." John's mouth turns up into a sad smile. His eyes brighten for a split second as something crosses his mind. "Doesn't mean I haven't already binned all of his experiments." Sherlock barely has time to feel indignant before John's eyes darken again and the video ends. Sherlock's features soften but his mouth still quirks up in slight annoyance.

"I had been working with those toes for _months._ Lost. All of it. Utterly_ wasted._" The detective sits back in a huff and his face pulls into a pout. _How dare John defile my experiments!_

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><p>Prompt was "boxes"<p> 


	8. Mountains

"I think I need to get away. Not permanently, but I need to get out. It feels like everything here is pressing in on me, smothering me. I can't take it. Everything… Everything reminds me of him. But maybe, maybe if I take a trip, a trip someplace completely unlike London, maybe I won't be able to feel him everywhere I go." Sherlock's breathe catches in his throat, and it feels like his heart has dropped into his stomach. "I could go to the continent. Though, I've been to France. Not exactly my cup of tea. Venice maybe. Or I could go further, Brazil. Travel across the Americas, maybe India, see some real mountains." He sighs, and Sherlock notes that he seems to be doing a rather lot of that lately. "I dunno. I don't know how long I can stay here, but it feels like if I were to leave-leave Baker street, leave London- that it wouldn't have been real. That _he_ wouldn't have been real."

John closes his eyes and is silent for a long time, Sherlock can't do much more than stare at the frozen man on his screen, still except for the chest moving rhythmically underneath a maroon jumper. _Please John, don't leave. I'm going to need you there when I return. _The video is old, but Sherlock can't help the fear that creeps through his bones. It's childish, he knows that John has not yet left, but the thought of John being anywhere other than Baker street, anywhere other than home, terrifies him.

John finally speaks again, his voice so quiet that Sherlock leans forward to be sure to catch it. "I can't leave."

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><p>Prompt was "Mountains"<p> 


	9. Lies

"Lies. All of it. Complete bollocks." John mutters as he picks up one paper after another, briefly flashing the tabloids at the camera, a disgruntled look on his face. "How could they believe this crap! I mean really. A fraud! A fake! He was many things. Insufferable? Sure. Annoying? All the time. Genius? Most definitely. But one thing he was not was a _fake._" He spits out the last word like a curse.

"They're all so gullible! He was one of- no he was _the_ most amazing man there ever was. He was brilliant and astounding, and damn good at what he did. At one point he might have even bloody well saved their lives! And this is how they repay him. By dragging his name through the mud." He scoffs in disgust and Sherlock can see the anger radiate off of him.

"It's been _months_ and they are STILL publishing this filth! Do they know no sense of boundaries? Do they have no shame? What kinds of people do this sort of thing? I'm so disgusted with everyone, even the people that knew him. It's like they've all given up faith! As if he could be anything other than brilliant… People really will believe anything won't they?" He lets out an angry sigh. "Sometimes, sometimes it feels like I'm the only one that still believes."

The video ends but Sherlock continues to stare at the screen in disbelief. The complete loyalty and faith John still has in him, even after all of this time is unbelievable. Sherlock doesn't quite understand it. He gave the army doctor every reason to doubt his brilliance, told him himself that Sherlock Holmes was a fraud. Yet not once did John ever doubt his friend. Sherlock is overcome with an extreme emotion he cannot place, his face burning. _I don't deserve you John._

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><p>Prompt was 'lies'<p>

**A/N: **Hello once again! Can I just stop a minute and tell you all how truly touched I am at the response I've gotten to this? All of the alerts and faves, and oh, the _reviews. _Every single one of them truly makes my day. You have no idea what it means to me. I was so overjoyed by the response that I just had to update, but I'm going to warn you, don't expect it to be this frequent! My updates will most likely be slow.

Now, forgive me for breaking my short and infrequent note promise, but I want to thank my reviewers in the chapters. I've just always loved when authors did that. So I'll answer a few on each one, if you reviewed keep a look out for your name!

Huggs5- Oh I will! I hope you enjoy these next few installments.

MyKardia- Thank you so much! I'm so glad you think so!


	10. Name

"Don't think I haven't noticed, that I've yet to say the name. I know it's not healthy, to hide from it, but outside of that office, outside of that _one_ time, I can't find myself able to say it. Don't ask me why 'cause I couldn't tell you even if I knew. But it's not good is it? Putting all of this pressure on just a name." He sighs.

"One name. Two syllables. But so much _power." _John takes a deep breath and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a sad imitation of his former smile. "Power over me."

Sherlock's breathe hitches and his stomach twists in an unfamiliar way. His heart pounds as he stares at his friend, rewinding the video to play it over again.

"_One name."_

A shiver runs up his spine.

"_Two syllables."_

The detective closes his eyes, letting the words wash over him.

"_So much power."_

His heart skips a beat.

"_Power over me." _

_You are wrong John. It is you that has power over me._

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><p><em>Prompt was 'name'<em>

Zarra Rous- Thank you so much! I hope you aren't disappointed!

AlisaPhenom- Hehe thank you! I hope this update was soon enough for you! Thank you for your love and hopefully there will be more awww's to come.


	11. Shooting Star

"When I was young my mum used to tell me that if I ever saw a shooting star that I should close my eyes real tight and make a wish. She said that if I did that, that maybe, just maybe, someday, that wish would come true. Well where's my wish now? Where's a shooting star when you really need one?" He lets out a bitter laugh.

"You know, my mum really was a sweet lady. Dad could be a bit of a wanker at times, but I always loved my mum. Guess that's how it always is though. No matter what they do to you, you still have to love your mother." His mouth twitches briefly. "Either way, I have some good memories of that woman. When I was little, 'bout seven or eight I believe, she took Harry and me to my Grandparent's house out in the country. She wouldn't tell us why, just told us it was for a real special reason."

"The second night there I heard her creep into my room, she came over to my bed and woke me up, told me to come with her and be really quiet, that I had to tiptoe until we got past my Granddad's room. We went to go wake Harry and I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't feel a little smug to have been in on this little adventure with mum before my big sis." He closes his eyes at the fond memory, a small smile gracing his lips. He loses himself over to the past, and Sherlock's heart warms at the expression on his face, the only true happiness he has seen from his friend since the videos began, small as it is.

"The three of us snuck downstairs, freezing when one of the steps creaked. Harry's fault by the way. We waited in silence, hearts beating quickly in our chests until we heard Grandpa snore loudly. Then my mother almost blew it when she let out this big laugh. We all busted into a fit of giggles and had to clamp our hands over our mouths, Harry even going as far as to hide her face in her shirt. The laughter wouldn't stop so my mother grabbed our free hands and we ran out the door, and out across the yard, letting the laughs rip free." He chuckles softly, eyes still closed, and Sherlock is completely enraptured with his small tale.

"When we could finally breathe my mother turned to us, a big smile widening on her face. She told us that she had a surprise, but that we couldn't tell anyone. Said it was our little secret. She took both of our hands and led us around the back of the house, across the yard and through some trees. Along the way she told us about this small clearing, just on the edge of the property. A secret, quiet place that no one knew about. That is, no one but her, and now us."

"When we came upon it I don't know what I said, but it was probably not much more than 'wow.'" One small chuckle escapes it's prison in his chest. "All I know is that it was gorgeous. Past the trees that I had always thought bordered the yard was this little meadow, a field full of thick green grass and colourful flowers that opened up onto a small peaceful lake. I remember the three of us looking out onto it for a while, the moonlight shining on the water." He lets out a small sigh, still lost to the memory.

"We stood there like that, staring out over the water, content in our mother's arms until she pried our eyes away and led us to a small blanket nearby. She sat us down and pointed at the sky, telling us to watch and wait. We sat there with baited breath, with no idea what was to happen. Ten minutes passed and the dark night sky remained the same, my mother and I had lain down on our backs, but Harry was always impatient, she sat cross-legged, leaning on her arms and looking completely frustrated. She kept fidgeting and looking around, trying to discover why we were there no doubt." He snorts and shakes his head slowly.

"She missed the first one. It shot across the sky fast as lightning, there one second and gone the next. My gasp let her know where to look, and I could practically hear the smile in my mother's voice when she told us the real reason we had come. There was to be a meteor shower that night, and she wanted to share it with us. She reminded us to make our wish, but to keep our eyes open. I told her that if we did that it wouldn't work and she just laughed. She said that if we wished hard enough, and for something good enough, closing our eyes wouldn't matter."

"At first I didn't know what to wish for. A new bike? A bigger room? Harry to grow horns? But after a while I decided on something with a little more value, something I wouldn't get tired of. We lay there for over an hour, curled up to mum, watching the 'stars' go by. It was breathtaking, one of the most amazing things I've ever seen in my life. The three of us didn't speak again, just sat there and wished. When it was over we walked back up to the house in silence, my mum tucked us in and kissed us goodnight. The next morning Gram asked us why we were all so tired, and my mum just put a finger to her lips, her eyes twinkling. We never mentioned it again." His smile had widened as he spoke, and Sherlock is sure he sees small tears glistening in his eyes when they open once again.

"It wasn't until she was gone that I realised how much little things like that mattered to me, and me and Harry threw quite the fit to have her buried there in the centre of that clearing. Her own private paradise. All of our relatives wanted to know why, but we never gave them any explanation, we just knew that that was where she needed to be." He sighs, and all traces of the former smile are gone.

He breathes deeply. "It worked though, my wish. I didn't wish for something silly like a new toy, I knew that it had to be special. A wish worth all of the stars in the sky. So I wished for a friend, for happiness, for love. I didn't yet know what all of it meant, but I wished for it all the same. It took me over thirty years to be granted that wish, one moment for it all to be taken away, and now months for me to realise that I finally found it in a man that will never know what he meant to me."

Sherlock's heart skips a beat and a large grin blooms over his face. He can't seem to reel in the joy he finds in John's words, happiness practically radiating off of him. He wants to hug and hold and _thank_ the man paused on his screen, but he can't do much more than sit there, vibrating with glee, his mind and heart filled with one thing: _John._

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><p>Prompt was 'shooting star'<p>

**A/N: **Well that was a long one! I hope you enjoyed it. One thing just to help you while you read these: I see each chapter as a separate video, and each video taping is spread out over days or weeks, but Sherlock watches them in clumps or as they are sent. They will rarely reference past videos.

PeaceRoseG'ladheon- Thank you so much! Oh, I'm glad! That is exactly how I wanted it to turn out, John fumbling with it at first but talking more and more as he gets more comfortable with the idea. They probably won't stay consistent in length as he can be very passionate and hotheaded, but since he can't storm off he stops the video. I hope you like the longer chapters! Oh, and one more thing: Yay for Vampire Academy! Good to see another fan. ;D

BlooMist- *Giggles* Thank you so much hun! I'm so glad you approve. But really, all of them? I can has them all? O.O It surely cannot be that good! I'm so happy you love it, and yes you can have more, you can have it all! In fact, this chapter is for you. **Dedicated to BlooMist**. There, it's official. I hope you like it!


	12. Easy

"It'd be so easy." Sherlock's heart drops into the bottom of his stomach as his eyes find the object John is grasping. "So damn _easy. _Just one twitch, and it's all over." He turns the gun over in his hands, caressing it. "All of the thoughts, the heartbreak, the _pain._ All over, in just a second." His finger hovers over the trigger, the gun still in his lap. Sherlock can't look away, his eyes transfixed. His heart and lungs barely bothering to function anymore as if they feel that in a world with no John Watson there should be no Sherlock Holmes.

"Cause that is all that it'd take, to pull the trigger. One second. I must've done it a million times," He places the gun against his head, barrel poised at his temple. "Shouldn't be too hard." His finger curls around the trigger. "No. Not hard at all." Sherlock is frozen, his heart filled with dread. The finger twitches. _Click. _

"Easy." A breathy voice states, as a hand falters and a gun falls, clattering to the floor in front of a couch. A couch that John sits on, eyes closed, still trying to regain his breathe, tears shining on his cheeks. His breathing comes out ragged and his body shakes, arms gripping his chest tightly as if he is barely able to hold himself together.

A blonde head falls back, chest still moving rapidly and he says his next sentence not to the camera pointed at him, but to the ceiling above. "Easy, yes. But I owe him much more than that."

Sherlock sits in stunned silence, his heart still pounding, going much faster than normal, stuttering on every other beat, his breath coming to him in choked gasps. His mind is, for once, terrifyingly blank, and his heart feels like it is burning, burning and breaking deep inside his chest. He puts the laptop aside, and pulls his feet up onto the seat, his arms encircling his legs. He buries his face in his lap, letting the tears soak through his trousers.

Unbeknownst to him, his phone beeps somewhere off to the side, and a text message is left to sit there until Sherlock feels he can pull himself together enough to look at it. The words of which he will not read until much later, but even hours after they bring little comfort to the deep ache inside his chest.

_I know it is hard. But you cannot yet go to him. Stay strong little brother. -MH_

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><p>Prompt was 'easy'<p>

Elfenwesen- Thank you! I'm so happy you enjoyed, and that it was what you were looking for! I hope this lives up to the first eight!

BrittFaceNess- Thank you so much! I'm glad you think it's adorable, and I have to say that I'm glad so many people enjoy the idea! I hope you liked these last four too!

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed these, and please feel free to tell me your thoughts! I'm not a very confidant writer, but a few good reviews like the ones I've gotten so far just make me want to write more. Thank you for reading!


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